Thicker Than Blood
by KratistosX987
Summary: All across the Sword Coast, an iron crisis has crippled trade between cities and nations, leading many to fear that war is coming. As the chaos worsens, a plot that shall shake the very foundations of Faerùn begins to unfold. Within the peaceful sanctuary of Candlekeep, a powerful mage is desperate to escape to safety with his foster child, unaware that destiny has other plans...
1. The First of Many

**Disclaimer: **This story is written using the setting and the characters of the Forgotten Realms, part of Dungeons & Dragons and wholly owned by Wizards of the Coast. Original characters, fictional locations, and such are all entirely made up and any resemblance to other people/places is purely coincidental. If you find a reason to sue me, proceed. Just be warned, I'm virtually penniless and have a cute little puppy that relies on me or food and a warm place to sleep. A puppy, people. Don't be cruel.

**Thicker Than Blood**

**\- The First of Many -**

* * *

"_If you have the arrogance of a god and can kill like a god, who's to say you are not a god?"_

_\- _Winski Perorate

* * *

_25th of Tarsakh, 1368_

A glass of wine in his hand, Colvar stared out the window at the sprawling city of Baldur's Gate from the fifth floor of the Iron Throne's Headquarters, savoring the sweet taste of his drink. Though, he reminded himself, the true Headquarters was in Cormyr. Or was that Sembia? No, the man recalled then, the Iron Throne had been banned from Cormyr.

In any case, they had shifted their focus to Baldur's Gate as of late, despite the iron crisis that was now tearing the Sword Coast apart. Or perhaps, Colvar smiled to himself, because of it. Yes, he had his suspicions, and he would have his answers soon enough. All would be revealed by the end of the night, for that was what he had been promised. While he enjoyed wealth and power, he had to ensure his survival in order to enjoy such things, and much depended on his alliance with the man he was now here to see.

Colvar moved away from the window and returned to a seat he favored, delighting in the comfort it provided him, though he could not dispel the sense of unease that gnawed at him. Just how long did they plan to make an honored guest such as he wait?

After all, who knew how much time they had left?

It had been some time since Colvar had last been in Amn and Tethyr, but he well remembered the rising tensions among the people, the growing fear that war was coming. He well remembered who was behind it.

A dark alliance between Bhaal's children. Bastards had tried killing him.

Or at least, their hired knives had tried, but it was the height of foolishness for one to try and kill a Bhaalspawn without being a Bhaalspawn themselves. He had slain all of them, save for one. The survivor, he had sent back to the bitch that had dispatched them in the first place, albeit missing bits and pieces. After all, Colvar was quite adept in torture.

He licked his lips as he remembered that particular session, the sensations of cutting into the assassin's flesh, the screams that his sweet ministrations had elicited.

There were rumors of dragons gathering within the mountains of Tethyr as well as an unholy alliance of dark elves and mind flayers lurking within the darkness. Colvar wasn't absolutely certain of it yet but he suspected the ogre mage Sythillis, who even now sought to incite a rebellion within southern Amn, to be aligned with them as well. Worst of all, there was a great army on the march, sacking cities and burning lands as they went. An army comprised of, if you could believe it, humans and fire giants and fire elementals, all worshipping a fire giant as if he were a god himself.

It was also said that this fire giant was supposedly invulnerable to all weapons and all manner of magic, that he was unkillable, that he had sacrificed his own beating heart to some dark god in exchange for immortality.

In any case, there were preparations to make, allies to gather, and above all, an army to raise. All the resources and wealth of the Iron Throne would go a long way, but they would also need the city of Baldur's Gate as well, along with the Flaming Fist mercenary company, two thousand strong. But the Flaming Fist wouldn't be enough alone. It would take a fortune to secure the allegiance of mercenaries too. They would have to ensnare the rest of the Lords' Alliance into the coming conflict as well. They would need all the strength of Waterdeep and Neverwinter, certainly, as well as the forces of Daggerford, Berdusk, and others still.

He hadn't come without plans, after all. Whatever schemes the Iron Throne had managed to concocted would have to be put aside. There was far more important things to do, far greater prizes to attain.

The Five, as far as he knew, sought to resurrect their dead father and take their places at his side as demigods in their own right. He would destroy their plans himself, murder the Five, and take their place at his father's side once Bhaal was resurrected.

All Colvar needed was a partner, one with immense strength and the resources necessary to begin putting their plan into effect.

He heard the door open then, brought his attention up to the man who had just entered. "Finally, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me, dear brother." Colvar smiled as he raised his glass to the young man who had just entered, though that brought him up short. Young, yes... He was only, what, twenty three or twenty four. Yet he was possessed of a physique that put other men to shame. "Master Anchev, these last few days, we've spoken about much but...I must insist on hearing your answer," Colvar stood up then, perhaps nowhere near as imposing but he was also nothing to scoff at. The power of Bhaal, his vile essence, ran strong in him too. "Now."

The man stared at him then, making it clear he did not appreciate the threatening note Colvar had just taken. Colvar cared little about it, though, for he knew if he showed any weakness now, it would be this younger man who would dominate their partnership.

Colvar chuckled then, not wishing to jeopardize the partnership over some slight, "We've not much time if we're to move ahead of our enemies and lay claim to our places at Bhaal's side. There is much to be done."

"You are right," the man spoke though he continued to glare at Colvar, "but you must wait a moment longer. I must retrieve something from my room, something you may find interesting."

The Bhaalspawn sighed, partly in annoyance though part of him was interested.

It was some time before Colvar heard his sibling return and turned to face him, ready to press him on the issue of allying together if what the younger man had to show was of little importance. He stopped then, stopped as soon as he caught sight of the armored figure before him. Somehow his sibling seemed many times bigger than he had before, far more fearsome and far more monstrous. "Wha..."

"Impressive, is it not?" The armored figure approached closer. "It was completed only this morning, by a trusted ally of mine. His designs are most extraordinary. Divinely inspired, one might even say." He spread his arms out wide, as if to reveal all of himself in his full glory.

"Most impressive, yes." Colvar managed to say, forcing aside his surprise. In truth, he was also equally elated, for here was a fearsome monster that seemed as if it could go toe to toe with a fire giant... and come out the victor. "A fearsome sight to behold, brother. One worthy of a child of Bhaal."

The younger man laughed then, a harsh laughter that sent chills up Colvar's spine. "It is only appropriate, after all. I have undergone a training so brutal that only the strongest could have survived it. It was but a matter of course to fashion for myself armor fitting for a Deathbringer descended from Bhaal himself. It is just as well for my weapon shall be finished soon."

Colvar smiled, pleased at this turn of events. His doubts were cleared then, at the sight of a partner that would strike fear into all his enemies. "I have no doubt that even without a weapon there is no one who could best you."

"Indeed, much less a simpleton like you." The armored figure approached even closer. "Your enemies will perish too, that much is true. But what you fail to realize, Colvar... Is that while you may be satisfied with a place at Father Bhaal's side..." He grabbed Colvar and raised him up into the air then, without much effort. "... I have no such desire! Father Bhaal is dead and those who seek to resurrect him are but fools!" He spun around, hurling Colvar across the room until the Bhaalspawn crashed into the heavy doors, splintering them in the process and sending him sliding across the floor.

Thunderous footsteps followed as Colvar struggled to get to his feet, desperate to escape, to survive this. He would get away and he would have his revenge on his sibling as well. Nothing had changed, truly. There were hundreds of Bhaalspawns out there. There would be one as strong as the Five and clever enough to see the merits in his plans! If this fool did not wish to be a demigod, then he could die for all Colvar cared.

"Resurrect Bhaal?" The armored figure spoke as he strode toward Colvar, his intent to kill overflowing. "No. Our father will stay dead and all our brothers and sisters will join him in death! Only I alone will remain! Only I alone will ascend!"

That stopped Colvar in his tracks and he turned to look back at the armored figure.

"Behold," his sibling spoke then, "the new Lord of Murder!" With the announcement, the two of them locked eyes and Colvar felt the worst fear he had ever experienced in his life, fear that threatened to overwhelm him and buckle his knees, fear that promised death.

And yet... He pushed through it and took off running, straight for the stairs to the lower level. Colvar stopped suddenly, catching sight of the armored figure's lackeys, the ones he had referred to as his 'acolytes'. Growling in frustration, he changed directions and made a mad scramble for another door.

Colvar heard that hideous laughter as he slammed the door wide open, only to find stairs leading... up. Deep within, he knew he was dead, that his half brother would get him. Growling again, Colvar refused to believe that this was where he would end, murdered at the hands of a child of Bhaal. Instead, he pushed on and climbed the stairs.

Behind him, the armored figure closed in on him, shut the door behind him with a loud slam. The fool had run himself into a dead end and he would tie up yet another loose end. The first of many loose ends.

The acolytes took up position in front of the door then, knowing their lord and master would murder Colvar, that there was no need for them to assist him in this. Furthermore, they understood this to be a ceremony of sorts, symbolic in truth, for it marked the true beginning of their master's plan. The true beginning of his ascension to godhood. Then, they heard it then, his proclamation from the roof of their headquarters.

"I will be the last... and you will go first!"

* * *

"_A lie spread often enough with money to attend it becomes as much truth as a coin is round."_

_\- _Common Amnish Saying

* * *

_Well met, adventurer. You seem like a curious sort who enjoys the finer things. Permit me then to regale you with a tale from a time long since gone, a century in the passing. I think you'll find it well worth your time and the price of a pint of Westgate Ruby wine._

_Who am I, you ask?_

_Volothamp Geddarm at your service, setting forth truths like the deep and ancient secrets whispered into my ears by the guardian spirits of the hidden tombs of fallen archmages now dust._

_Ooh. I like the sound of that, yes. I do think I'll write that down in my latest manuscript. It's about monsters, you see. But that's not what I promised you, is it now?_

_Let's see... It was the Year of the Banner, 1368 Dale Reckoning. The setting? Baldur's Gate. The Gate to those who live in that sprawling metropolis. A city of immeasurable commerce and limitless opportunities, and by far the most prosperous of merchant cities. It was once the greatest of city-states that could be found on the Sword Coast. It was, as it still is to this day, a member of the Lords' Alliance in good standing._

_With Waterdeep to the north and Amn to the south, Baldur's Gate was built upon a strip of soil unfit for farming, but it also had the grace to be established beside a natural bay, at the mouth of the River Chionthar._

_The denizens of the Gate were diverse and came from all walks of life. Anyone could come to the Gate and start a new life, no matter who or what they were. Despite being home to tens of thousands, more than sixty thousand souls, Baldur's Gate was all the more remarkable for its safety. This was, in no small part, due to the presence of the Watch and the exceedingly formidable mercenary company that had made its home there, the Flaming Fist._

_Baldur's Gate's wealth came from the exports of such things as dyes, fish in barrels of salt, lamp oil, and above all, the coinage of the trade. They minted their own silver bars, you see. Five gold pieces for a single pound of it. More than that, the Gate was also home to nearly a hundred professional guilds. Seafarers. Brewmasters. Metalworkers. And yet more!_

_There was also mercantile groups that operated within the Gate. The Merchant's League. The Seven Suns Trading Coster. The Knights of the Shield. The Iron Throne._

_But such peace and wealth inevitably draw those with ill intentions. The city was beginning to feel the pinch of the iron shortage. For some strange, unknown reason, every bit of iron across the Sword Coast crumbled, made useless by some mysterious affliction. The greatest source of iron for the Sword Coast was the mines of Nashkel though what iron they did mine was brittle and near worthless._

_Some blamed Amn for the shortage. Others still thought it the doing of the Zhentarim. There were even suspicions of the Grand Dukes of the Gate being involved in the growing crisis. Things were getting dire then. Iron rendered worthless. War looming on the horizon. Chaos all along the Sword Coast and within the Gate._

_Amidst it all, the one place that remained thus far untouched was Candlekeep, the great library-fortress of the Sword Coast. Within those stony walls lies the hero of our tale. None knew it then, save for perhaps one old man, that this boy would go on to become one of the most powerful mortals to ever walk the realms._

* * *

"_The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery."_

* * *

_1st of Mirtul, 1368_

The great keep of Candlekeep, built long ago atop a volcanic crag a mere hundred paces away from the Trackless Sea, has been home to quite perhaps the greatest repository of knowledge in all of Faerun, if not all of Toril.

Its thick walls, the high towers, the imposing keep that serves as sanctuary to thousands upon thousands of books and scrolls and manuscripts, are ancient beyond most measures, having existed for at least a thousand years thus far. While many know it as the home of the great seer Alaundo, it was in actuality built several centuries before the seer would be born, raised in the Year of Stonerising, -200 Dalereckoning.

Wise Alaundo himself only came to Candlekeep and made his home there in the Year of Clinging Death, 75 Dalereckoning.

It was there at Candlekeep that he received his visions for the future, visions that continue to foretell events that has yet to unfold, a millennia later. It was only after his death that Candlekeep became a sanctuary of knowledge, preserving not only Alaundo's prophecies but all knowledge possible.

There was fifteen hundred years of history within the walls of Candlekeep and today Gorion felt each and every year weigh heavily on him. He sighed as he looked out the window from his private chambers within the Great Library, down upon the Court of Air where he could see his foster child sitting down on the grass and speaking with one of the few other children to grow up at Candlekeep, a young little rapscallion by the name of Imoen. No doubt his ward was regaling Imoen with tales of heroics, of swords and sorcery, of dungeons and dragons. Stories he himself had related to his own foster child not too long ago.

The old sage pulled himself away from the window and sat down at his desk, returning his attention to the task of going over the letter that he had received not too long ago, torn between choices that he must soon decide upon.

He picked up the letter yet again, reading through it and hoping to perhaps discover something he had missed, though in his heart of hearts Gorion knew he had missed nothing. There was no secrets within the lines, concealed by some clever cipher or hidden by magical means.

_My friend Gorion,_

_Please forgive the abruptness with which I now write, but time is short and there is much to be done. What we have long feared may soon come to pass, though not in the manner foretold, and certainly not in the proper time frame. As we both know, forecasting these events has proved increasingly difficult, leaving little option other than a leap of faith. We have done what we can for those in thy care, but the time nears when we must step back and let matters take what course they will. We have, perhaps, been a touch too sheltering to this point._

_Despite my desire to remain neutral in this matter, I could not, in good conscience, let events proceed without some measure of warning. The other side will move very soon, and I urge thee to leave Candlekeep this very night, if possible. The darkness may seem equally threatening, but a moving target is much harder to hit, regardless of how sparse the cover. A fighting chance is all that can be asked for at this point._

_Should anything go awry, do not hesitate to seek aid from travelers along the way. I do not need to remind thee that it is a dangerous land, even without our current concerns, and a party is stronger than an individual in all respects. Should additional assistance be required, I understand that Jaheira and Khalid are currently at the Friendly Arm Inn. They know little of what has passed, but they are ever thy friends and will no doubt help however they can._

_Luck be with us all._

_I'm getting too old for this._

_E_

At the very least, that was something that comforted Gorion greatly. Jaheira and Khalid were, by far, the most dependable of allies and friends that could be trusted with his life and that of his foster child. While they were both only in their thirties, they had demonstrated all the fine qualities necessary in Harpers and Gorion knew they would never let him down.

Furthermore, as gifted and formidable as he knew himself to be, Gorion also knew his weaknesses well. Khalid and Jaheira possessed martial skills that he lacked, while Jaheira had a connection to nature that would allow them to stay ahead of their enemies. The only problem was... how to escape Candlekeep and meet up with his allies without them noticing. A powerful wizard such as he would certainly be watched, and while he had sensed no scrying made against him, he full knew that there were other methods, methods less magical in nature. There could be no doubt that the enemy already had some influence within Candlekeep's walls, enough influence to keep the enemy aware of his movements.

There came a knock at the door, and Tethtoril entered the chamber only at Gorion's permission. The sage beckoned him closer before pulling out a piece of black cloth, murmuring words of power that would proof his private chamber against any and all means of spying. Putting away the fabric, Gorion gestured for Tethtoril to take a seat. "First Reader, I thank you for coming at my request. I hope I am not distracting you from your responsibilities."

The red-robed wizard waved it aside. "As always, it is a privilege. Ulraunt has things well managed at the moment and I was merely meeting with Firebead."

Gorion raised an eyebrow then. "Firebead Elvenhair is here as well? Ah, no matter." The sage folded the letter in his hand then, slipped it into one of his desk's drawers. "I have decided to leave," said Gorion simply, though the statement was full of weight and spoke volumes about the choice he had come to.

"I see." Tethtoril began, "And what of the child?"

"He will accompany me, of course. Candlekeep is..." Gorion sighed then. "Candlekeep is no longer the sanctuary it once was. The enemy has been here already, and I suspect the enemy knows the truth of my ward's background, his... his heritage. Of what importance this may be to the enemy, I know not, but one thing remains clear... My child is in danger."

Tethtoril nodded, "and so, you would take him to safety."

Gorion smiled, for there were none as intelligent and perceptive as the First Reader. Truly, there were times when Gorion suspected the man to be a favorite of Mystra. Then again, there were times when he suspected Tethtoril to have the favor of more than just one deity. He was, after all, by far the finest First Reader Candlekeep had ever had, gifted not only in balancing Ulraunt and the Avowed but in plucking secrets from the Great Library that generations of monks had failed to come across.

"What of Kasmir, though?" Tethtoril continued, referring to the sage's foster child. There was no denying that the boy was unique. "By all accounts, he has all the makings of a sorcerer, no doubt due to his... heritage. He still has need of your guidance."

Gorion could only sigh. "I know, Tethtoril. I know. Even when he was young, Kasmir has always delighted in my demonstrations of the magical arts. Imagine my surprise when he simply began to call on powers I had spent a lifetime studying... Yet, the way in which he manages it..."

Tethtoril chuckled then, "his reckless methods, you mean."

"Methods would have suggested some form of procedure," Gorion went on, "but his approach has certainly been chaotic, in truth. I've tried giving him pointers, guide him along in mastering his abilities. Still, there is simply just no sense to any of it."

"Truly, you were never comfortable about it." Tethtoril remarked, more a question than anything.

"I never was," Gorion acceded him the point, "though that no longer matters. If mastering his gifts will ensure his survival, then it matters not where they came from."

"Indeed," Tethtoril agreed. "I presume you have a plan then?"

"Nothing for certain, just the beginning of one, I'm afraid." Gorion looked out the window again, catching sight of an eagle soaring in the sky. It was beginning to darken.

The First Reader nodded, "The beginning of something is better than nothing at all. You'll be leaving soon, I take it?"

"Tomorrow," Gorion confirmed. "Just as darkness falls. We'll make our way through the forest on the Lion's Way, then up the Coast Way to the Friendly Arm Inn. I am told several of my friends are already there, awaiting me. After that... Perhaps Baldur's Gate, where we may find safety among faceless thousands... or perhaps a ship." He looked at Tethtoril then. "I have only a day's time left to me. I must make preparations."

"What can I do to help, Gorion?" The First Reader offered.

"Wish us all the luck you can spare." Gorion stood up then. "I must go now. Please, Tethtoril... Not a word of this to Kasmir. I will speak with him myself."

Tethtoril could only agree, for he knew their safety depended on much, but also on secrecy as much as anything else.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Hello there, readers! First of all, I want to thank you for giving my story here a read. It means a lot._

_Anyway. With the upcoming Baldur's Gate III game, I've decided to do a playthrough of the original two games (Technically four, if you include the expansions as well) and this time around, I decided to base a story off it._

_A warning, however. I will be trying to write this story while keeping the mechanics of 5th edition of Dungeons and Dragons, and there will be some things that falls squarely under the homebrew category. In this instance, the main character of our story is believed to be a Sorcerer, but as the story goes on, you'll find out just exactly what he really is. This was actually something of an inspiration I had while going through the Murder in Baldur's Game campaign and I wanted to write it out. It'll also be written in the vein of Forgotten Realms novels that many of us enjoy and love, though the prose will be very much in my style._

_Also, some of you readers will certainly be some of my regular readers from the Fallout universe. Rest assure, I have not abandoned my fanfics there, and I fully intend to update them soon! A great many things has happened since my last update and I've been stretched rather thin trying to stay on top of it all and what precious little free time I have, it's more or less to blow off stress. I hope you understand, but I will also understand if you find this unacceptable. I can't do anything about that. All I can really do is write what I can when I can and post it once I have a chapter finished._

_For those of you new to my writing style, I hope you'll enjoy the ride! All feedback, critique, questions, or anything of the sort really, are all equally welcome! Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think so far! I enjoy hearing what my readers have to say, really. There should be an update to this fanfic coming soon, as I've had plenty of time to write on my business trip!_

_Kratistos out!_


	2. Halcyon Days

**Disclaimer: **This story is written using the setting and the characters of the Forgotten Realms, part of Dungeons & Dragons and wholly owned by Wizards of the Coast. Original characters, fictional locations, and such are all entirely made up and any resemblance to other people/places is purely coincidental. If you find a reason to sue me, proceed. Just be warned, I'm virtually penniless and have a cute little puppy that relies on me or food and a warm place to sleep. A puppy, people. Don't be cruel.

**Thicker Than Blood**

**A Baldur's Gate Story**

**\- Halcyon Days - **

* * *

"_Beware of false knowledge. It is more dangerous than ignorance."_

* * *

2nd of Mirtul, 1368

Carefully seated between the battlements of the western wall facing the coastline, a youth of twenty years stared out at the endless blue skies that stretched far into the horizon. His amber eyes watched with a lazy ease as the clouds floated by, taking notice of a single hawk that flew among them.

Kasmir sighed as he ran his hand through his jet black hair, wishing yet again that he could be as free as the avian. Free to soar wherever he wanted to go, free to see all that he wanted to see... Free to explore the world his foster father had told him so much about. He tore his attention away from the hawk at the footsteps of an approaching guard patrolling along the wall. The boy stepped off the battlements then and stood up straight, standing at his full height of six feet and two inches.

The guard halted before him then, quarterstaff in hand. "Boy, yer father be wishin' to see you now."

Kasmir nodded and took off running then. He sighed as he ran, knowing that he was certainly in trouble now, for no doubt one of the monks had informed his foster father of chores going unfinished. Even as he ran, the boy wished he knew what was bothering his foster father so much lately, for the venerable sage had grown distant as of late.

He had spent most of his twenty years of life here behind the walls of Candlekeep, raised on a thousand tales of heroes and monsters, lovers and infidels, battles and tragedies, even as he learned from his father and the monks of Candlekeep. Though, of all the stories he's heard, there remains one that Kasmir remains most curious about, that of his own personal story. All he had now were questions... Questions of his heritage, his parentage, his origins.

Before long, Kasmir was making his way through the Court of Air, well on his way toward the Great Library where his foster father could often be found.

Even as he neared, he could see the figure of the old man standing atop the steps of the Great Library, and already he could see that Gorion was even more agitated than ever today. Something must truly be wrong to worry the old man so much like this.

"Father," Kasmir spoke gently as he made his way up the steps.

Gorion looked at him then, relieved to see him now. "Child, we must leave Candlekeep as speedily as possible."

Of all the things he expected his father to say, this was the very last thing Kasmir expected. "Le- Leave Candlekeep? Why? Where are we to go?"

Gorion held up a hand then, "Please, child. There is no time for questions. I beg you to gather your things and make preparations, for we must leave before darkness falls." He pulled out a pouch from one of his robe's pockets, handing it to his foster child. "Purchase what you need, child, and meet me here, as quickly as possible!"

"But..." Kasmir began, only to be cut off by the great sage.

"Quickly, I beg of you!"

Kasmir sighed and nodded. "Yes, father." He made his way down the steps and took off running, cutting through the Court of Air and behind the Great Library where the Candlekeep Inn awaited him.

As soon as he stepped inside, Kasmir could feel the warmth of the hearth in the back, which heated much of the structure, and to the side he saw the portly old innkeeper. Smiling, Kasmir strode across the wooden floor and approached Winthrop.

"Well, hello there, young one!" Winthrop gave him a hearty smile as he always did, ever glad to see the boy. "Come to visit your old pal Winthrop, have ye? Well, don't forget the customary book entrance fee, as per Candlekeep's custom, don'tcha know."

Kasmir grinned. "Always the big kidder, Winthrop. You'll have to pry those gold pieces out of the hands of the Avowed, and I fear that's the only thing they cling to tighter than their precious books." There was no way in the Nine Hells he would ever see ten thousand gold pieces.

"Haw! Just having a bit o' fun with ye, my friend," Winthrop chuckled as he wiped off a mug with a rag in his hand. "Them monks may be walking about with poles in their nethers, but you know you are always welcome here in my sight. Gorion did well by you, he did."

Kasmir smiled, though there was suddenly an odd lump in his throat at the mention of Gorion's name. He wished he knew what was bothering Gorion so much.

"So, is there anything I can do for ya? Some drinks, a room to sleep, or anything to buy?"

Kasmir nodded, "Father says we are to leave Candlekeep for... For where, I know not, actually."

Winthrop nodded, "So it's supplies you be needing then?"

"I..." Kasmir began, then he sighed. He had always thought he would spend his life here behind the austere walls of Candlekeep, training and learning how to master his magical gifts, learning from Gorion and the Avowed and all the knowledge of the Great Library. No... Not quite. He had always thought himself doomed

to just exactly that, never to know what the world outside Candlekeep was really like.

He gave it some thought before looking up at Winthrop. "What would you suggest, Winthrop?"

The portly man rubbed his chin. "Ye'll be needing a backpack, to begin with." Winthrop made his way into the back, no doubt to search for such a thing. It was several moments before he returned, carrying a leather backpack and several other things in his arms. "This should suffice, as well as a blanket and a bedroll, for your comfort."

Kasmir nodded. It would not do to be on the road without a thought for one's comfort, especially in the wilderness along the Coast Way. "I'll need rations and water as well."

"That you will," Winthrop agreed. "I'll have the kitchen prepare something for ye. Bread and cheese. We've some berries and nuts, as well... and strips of dried meat. Come back soon, and I'll have all that and a waterskin waiting for ye, count on it."

The young man smiled, he did so enjoy the dried meat Winthrop often made. "Do you also have any traveling clothes?"

"Aye, that we do." Winthrop motioned for Kasmir to follow him as they stepped into the back. It didn't take long for the youth to settle on a linen shirt and vest, some breeches, a sturdy belt as well as quality leather boots. Kasmir couldn't help but chuckle to himself, he very much looked like a commoner instead of one of the many monks of Candlekeep now. Yet, at the same time, he felt rather comfortable in such clothes. Winthrop tossed over some leather gloves as well before pulling out a traveling cloak that came with a hood. "This should keep you warm against the weather, I'd say."

Kasmir nodded again, grateful for the advice. "Many thanks, Winthrop," he added as they returned to the innkeeper's stand. "How much do I owe you for all this?"

"Oh," Winthrop began, looking over everything the young man had settled on, "eight gold pieces and three silver pieces will do, my friend."

Kasmir placed down nine gold pieces then, receiving seven silver coins in return. "I'll be back soon for the rest then, I suppose."

"Aye, they'll be waiting." Winthrop smiled as his friend turned away, though he felt saddened that he wouldn't be seeing the boy again for... who knew how long?

"Oh, one more thing!"

Kasmir stopped and turned back to look at Winthrop, "Yes?"

"Fuller stopped by earlier this morning, asking for some crossbow bolts." He pulled out a quiver containing twenty of the bolts the guard had asked for. "He'll reimburse you if you were to bring them to him, I'm sure. Should be finishing up his morning patrol by now."

Kasmir nodded and retrieved the bolts then, placing them in his backpack. "I'll be sure to stop by the guardhouse then."

The youth turned and was about to leave when he caught sight of someone waving him over. He chuckled as he approached the person, "It's been a while since we last saw you, goodsir."

Firebead Elvenhair laughed at the remark, "Ah, yes, I'm back within the hallowed halls of Candlekeep. With this iron crisis upon us, the trip from Beregost was more hazardous than I care to relate... You're Gorion's ward, aren't you? My, you have come into your own, if you would permit an old man jealous of youth to say so..."

Kasmir smiled. It was true, after all. He must have grown six inches since the last time Firebead had seen him, a fact his friend Imoen was still disgruntled about. "If you say so, sir."

Firebead chuckled, before growing more serious then. "Hmm, I left an identify scroll with Tethtoril, in the inner grounds. He should be done examining it by now, so if you could fetch it for me, I'd be grateful."

The youth was about to decline, an apology on his tongue, when he realized he would have to return for his rations and waterskin before leaving anyway. Instead, he smiled and nodded. "Certainly, I would be pleased to be of service."

If it wasn't for him tending to all the endless errands that seemed to fill up Candlekeep's walls, Kasmir had no doubt the keep would have crumbled long ago. Though, he would certainly like to see Ulraunt on his knees, sobbing before such a sight. In any case, Kasmir left the Candlekeep Inn and made his way down along a southern path.

Fuller groaned as he sat down at the table that occupied the center of the barracks, all the beds lined up against the walls. One of the guards laughed from his bed, still getting his armor on in order to begin his own patrol. "Too much to drink, eh?"

The Watcher grunted. "Ugh, what a mead-filled night. That Hull is just too much." He pulled off his helm and set it down on the table. "Poor sap had to go man the gate this morning too." He heard the door open. "I don't know how he does it..." Fuller looked around then, expecting to see another one of the guards. Instead, he found Kasmir standing before him. "What can I do for you, anyway?"

"Bolts, sir." Kasmir smiled, mildly amused at the guard's plight. He had seen the two staggering out of the Candlekeep Inn earlier this morning and wasn't surprised to find that they were suffering from a hangover. "Winthrop asked me to bring them over for you."

Fuller nodded, remembering he had asked the fat bastard for them. He took the quiver from Kasmir then, counted them quickly, before pulling out a couple of silver pieces. "Thanks, kid. I hear tell you might be leaving this place soon. Watch your back out there, okay? Here, let me give you this dagger," the Watcher pulled out a fine dagger as well, withdrew it from the sheath and handed it to Kasmir, who took it gingerly. "My father killed a hobgoblin with it once, many years ago. Stabbed him right in the back, he did. It ain't no broadsword, but it'll do in a pinch."

Kasmir gave the dagger a look over. As well made as it was, it felt quite comfortable in his hand. "Thanks, Fuller. I appreciate it." He placed it back within the sheath.

Fuller looked somewhat impressed that the kid was holding it properly already, but then again, he supposed some people just had a knack for it. His father certainly did, even if he himself didn't. "Now take care of yourself."

The youth went back outside then, took a moment to fix the sheath to his leather belt in order to ensure he could withdraw it quickly. After all, as formidable as magic could be, it was near worthless if someone was right on top of him. A dagger to the rib, on the other hand, would end most fights quickly.

Kasmir frowned then. 'That was... rather dark.' He supposed it was just the fact that he was really leaving Candlekeep that was finally hitting him just now. He looked over at the bunkhouse then and chewed on his lip. Imoen did have a habit of hanging about and practicing her 'tricks of the trade,' as she liked to call her thieving ways. Kasmir sighed then, though he couldn't help but smile. It was certainly fitting for Imoen to practice those kinds of skills, given how much she liked to get into everything. Even the Avowed had a hard time keeping the little brat out of the Great Library. It was a wonder that the portly innkeeper had managed to instill any sense of responsibility in the orphan. "My condolences, Winthrop."

"Hold up,boy!" Kasmir stopped as Fuller came back out of the barracks, carrying a sword in its scabbard. "Hull woke late this morning and left his sword in the barracks before going on duty. Return it to him, would you? Quick now, before the Gatewarden catches him without it." He held up a green vial then, "Like as not, he'll need this as well, if his head be feeling anything like mine right now."

Smiling, Kasmir nodded and took the scabbard before gingerly picking up the antidote. "Certainly. I'll make sure they find their way to Hull." He went on then, toward the Bunkhouse. Kasmir knew he should be getting ready and meeting his father as quickly as possible.

Still, Imoen might be in the Bunkhouse and he did want to see her before he had to leave. "'Ere there!" His hand about to touch the door, Kasmir stopped as he heard someone call out to him. He turned to see the Gatewarden approaching him, glinting in his chainmail, already in a sour mood from the look of his expression.

"Soon be gone, will e? Aye, Gorion arsked me to teach you a whit about the finer arts o' mass combat afore ye leave."

He jerked his head toward the nearby storage cellars, where Kasmir could see some of Candlekeep's residents getting their own things ready, including the illusionist Obe, the dwarf Arkanis, and the clerics Canderous and Osprey.

Kasmir shook his head, "Gorion's in a hurry, Gatewarden, and I'm afraid I can't spare the time. Sorry..."

The Gatewarden gave him a pointed look then. "Are ye sure, little one? It would be best ye took the time to learn it now rather than curse yer ignorance later. Gorion himself arsked me to do this deed and I'll not offer to ye twice."

_'Even though you just did.'_ Kasmir nodded this time without saying what was on his mind, not wanting to risk angering the man when he was already in a sour mood. "Whatever little knowledge I have, I am sure it will be sufficient, thank you. Besies, Gorion will protect me should we encounter any trouble."

Grunting, the Gatewarden rubbed his temple. "Aye, ye be as ye've always been, then. Worse than tryin' to talk sense to Ulraunt himself. Now there be duties that need attendin' and I'll not suffer a brat like ye any longer." He grumbled before returning to the storage cellars, no doubt to let the others know that the exercise he had asked them to participate in had been called off.

Kasmir looked back at the Bunkhouse and sighed. Too much time had been wasted already and he needed to finish getting ready. Hopefully he'd see Imoen before he had to leave.

Pushing on instead, the young man made his way past the storage cellars and the clinic, until he was just in front of the main gate. "Hull?" Kasmir whispered then, loud enough to catch the guard standing just by the portcullis.

The guard, obviously suffering from a hangover, groaned as he looked up at Kasmir, ready to shout at him and shoo the brat off when he saw the scabbard in the boy's hands. As bad as the hangover was, the prospect of not being caught by his superior without his sword was more than enough to brighten an otherwise miserable day. "Thanks, kiddo." He grabbed the proffered sword and began strapping it onto his belt. "Gorion didn't bring you up half bad, did he? You're lucky to have grown up in Candlekeep, to be honest. Sometimes I think the world outside these gates has gone mad, what with all this fighting over iron shortages and all."

Kasmir nodded along, knowing better than to interrupt whenever a guard was nursing a hangover. He'd been slapped around enough to learn that one, after all.

"Amn and Baldur's Gate will be at war before the season's out, mark my words... Anyhow, I'm on duty. Here's two gold pieces for saving my sin from the chief." Hull attempted a smile then, though it only came out as more of a grimace.

Pocketing the gold, Kasmir held up the antidote, expecting Hull to look at him as a savior.

Recognizing the bottle as his, Hull jabbed over his shoulder instead, "Already had one before I came on duty. I think Dreppin needs one for old Nessa, though."

He continued on then, making his way just past the entrance to the courtyard when Reevor flagged him down and told him to get his arse into the warehouse and take care of the rat problem. "I'm sorry, Reevor, but Gorion has need of me elsewhere!" He explained, though it didn't help Reevor's mood any.

It was only after Reevor had stomped off that Kasmir ran into his childhood friend. Or more accurately, she had jumped onto his back gleefully. "Imoen!"

Imoen grinned and let go of him, "I'm surprised that stuffy ol' Gorion let you away from your studies and chores! That ol' fiddle faddle. I snuck off too. Old Puffguts Winthrop was looking for me, but I've got all day to do his chores. You have time for a story today? No, I can tell you don't. What have ya been up to?"

"I..." Kasmir began, then he realized he didn't know what to say. What could he say now? That he was leaving? He didn't even know how Imoen would take that. But leaving without telling her? That'd have been worse. Sighing, Kasmir shook his head and went on, "I'm afraid I can't chat today, little one. My foster father wishes me to prepare for a journey, but will not say to where."

His friend scowled at him then, which only brought a small smile to Kasmir. "Little one? I'm not much younger than you, though you sure got tall fast. Relatively, anyway. A journey, eh? I never get to travel. Wish I could go with ya. Yep, I really wish I could. Yes, sir. Really do."

Kasmir chuckled, feeling just a bit better now. Imoen never failed to cheer him up when he needed it, though he still felt that odd lump in his throat... "All right, all right. I get the message. I'll ask if you can go with us."

Imoen snorted then. "Oh, don't be silly, Gorion would never even let you finish the sentence. Especially after what that letter of his said... Er... Did I say that? No, of course I didn't. Never saw no letter. Nope. I'll just get back to work now. You had better go. Gorion is waiting."

"Wait!" Kasmir called, grabbing Imoen's wrist and stopping her from running off. "At least give this to Dreppin, for his cow." He held up the antidote and his childhood friend grinned again, grabbed it, and ran off. Smiling, though curious at what Imoen had said as well, Kasmir looked down the path and started walking along it, knowing he'd find his father at the library.

Only to run into Tethtoril, who bid him to stop. "Firebead has sent you to me, hasn't he?" The red robed wizard reached inside his sleeve then, pulling out a scroll. "I expected as much. Very well, return this scroll to him, but then you must hurry up and speak with Gorion! He is waiting for you on the steps of the central library. I assure you, child, it is a matter of greatest urgency."

With Tethtoril pressing on to see to other matters, Kasmir sighed and settled on returning the scroll to Firebead first. He did need to pick up his things from Winthrop anyway, and Gorion would be waiting for him nonetheless.

Quickly, Kasmir made his way back to the Inn, greeting Parda and Phlydia who were apparently discussing the matter of a missing book, before stepping back inside.

"Kasmir!" Winthrop waved him over. Arranged on the table beside him were everything he had purchased. "I see ye's returned!" The portly man grinned as his young friend approached him.

Kasmir smiled, noticing that the innkeeper had all of the things he paid for on the counter already, "I have, Winthrop. Imoen should be along shortly, by the way."

The innkeeper nodded and picked up a bundle of clothes then, "Ye'll be wanting your traveling wear then." He gestured toward the back room then, "Go ahead and get changed."

"My thanks. Can you give this to Firebead?" He held up the scroll for Winthrop, who agreed and took it.

It didn't take long for Kasmir to get changed into the traveling clothes he had bought, pulled on the thick leather boots and strapped on his backpack. Twenty minutes later, he was climbing the steps to the library itself. "Father..."

Gorion looked up at the approaching form of his beloved ward, sensing the turmoil within Kasmir. "This is very unnerving, I know, but you must trust me. It is very important that you pack yo-" He stopped as soon as he saw that his ward was already packed and ready to go.

"Please, father, tell me where we will be going, at least." His foster son urged him then.

Gorion shook his head. "Alas, I cannot, for I have not truly decided yet. All that is certain is that we will be far safer on the move. Perhaps the woods might offer some secluded security, or perhaps the city of Baldur's Gate would offer cover amidst its teeming throngs of people. I do not know where we shall end up, but I have a few friends here and there. Hmm, I will think on this."

Kasmir looked around then, taking another look at the castle that had been his home for the last twenty years, then back at Gorion. "What could possibly harm us here? This place is a fortress, and guarded beyond measure." Even as he said it, Kasmir knew it was untrue, no place was totally safe. No, it was just that Candlekeep was the only place he really knew and now that he was leaving...

"Candlekeep is indeed a formidable obstacle for ne'er-do-wells," Gorion began, gently clasping his foster son's shoulder before continuing, "but it is not insurmountable. No matter how thick the mesh, at least one mosquito always finds its way through. No, my child, we must leave as soon as possible, for our safety, and for that of our friends here."

Kasmir sighed and nodded. "I'm ready to go then."

They made their way toward the main gate, where the Gatewarden ordered the Watchers to raise the portcullis and open the gate. A Priest of Oghma approached the two of them and began imbuing them both with Protection from Evil. Ignoring the priestly man, Gorion turned his attention to his ward. "Listen carefully! If we ever become separated, it is imperative that you make your way to the Friendly Arm Inn. There, you will meet Khalid and Jaheira. They have long been my friends, and you can trust them."

And so, they set off into the approaching night, unaware of the great danger that was fast approaching them.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Nothing to say here, just getting a new chapter in while I've got some free time in between my commissions. This chapter, of course, is the prologue of the game we all know and love, so there's not really that much to do. All the same, I hope I managed to keep it interesting and all. In any case, it's about to start getting really good! _

_As always, many thanks for reading! Feel free to drop a review with feedback or critique, I'm always happy to hear what people liked and didn't like! _

_**Nimloth of Thay **__\- Thank you for the kind welcome, it's a pleasure to finally post something here after reading all these stories for so long now. It's a he! He's actually almost out of his puppy stage but luckily enough, he still manages to look like a puppy even though he's nearly fully grown. I gave him a couple of treats in your name as well, though. Absolutely enjoyed them!_

_That said, I did consider doing that sort of story but I decided to go with the usual campaign you find around these parts, but with more of a focus on hard choices, struggles and tragedies, as well as coming to terms with the darker impulses of his bloodline._

_Those are good guesses, though! Hopefully the new chapter will have given you a few more hints as to Kasmir's class. :P I certainly don't want to reveal it right off the bat, but you'll definitely find out for sure by the time he's at the Friendly Arm Inn, so until then, have fun figuring it out!_

_**Guest **__\- Thank you for the review! I did consider making the chapters shorter but I felt that it might detract from the atmosphere I want to create through said chapters, so there's that. All the same, I'll do my best to make the chapters well worth reading! :P_

_Many thanks for reading, dear readers! Kratistos out!_


	3. A Killing Field

**Disclaimer: **This story is written using the setting and the characters of the Forgotten Realms, part of Dungeons & Dragons and wholly owned by Wizards of the Coast. Original characters, fictional locations, and such are all entirely made up and any resemblance to other people/places is purely coincidental. If you find a reason to sue me, proceed. Just be warned, I'm virtually penniless and have a cute little puppy that relies on me or food and a warm place to sleep. A puppy, people. Don't be cruel.

**Thicker Than Blood**

**A Baldur's Gate Story**

**\- A Killing Field - **

* * *

"_For those who fight for it, life has a flavor the sheltered will never know."_

* * *

_2nd of Mirtul, 1368_

"Let's hurry, child!" Gorion urged Kasmir on, though Kasmir was damn near ready to just drop his backpack and find a tree to sit against, "The night can only get worse, so we must find shelter soon." Kasmir grunted, though he did not complain. Gorion could tell he was beginning to near the limit of his patience, and Kasmir had never been one to be all that patient. "Don't worry, I will explain everything as soon as there is time..."

They pressed on then, continuing on under the cover of the trees and the night sky, toward the safety of the Friendly Arm Inn... Though Gorion mentioned there would be someone meeting them on the way.

It was only once they had left the trees behind and made their way across an open field, one ringed with stones. Kasmir and Imoen had long argued as to their meaning, until one of the Avowed explained that it was once a Circle used by the druids of ancient times, where they could travel over vast distances between these Circles.

Halfway across, Gorion halted and held out a hand toward Kasmir, who froze then. "Wait! There is something wrong..." He looked to the northeast then, sensing something dreadful approaching. He cursed on the inside, cursed that the enemy had struck now of all time. He had hoped, hoped against all odds, that they would just narrowly escape the fall of the enemy's sword. "We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself!" Gorion shouted as he activated the magical defenses he had prepared beforehand, arcane energies wrapping all around him.

Kasmir fell back several paces, dropped to a knee and waited to see what was coming ahead of them. Somewhere within his mind, he wondered just what in the Nine Hells was coming.

His father was one of the most powerful mages he knew, a peer of the likes of Khelben Blackstaff and Elminister. With all the troubles plaguing the Sword Coast, Kasmir expected this to be one of the many ambushes that had befallen caravans and travellers of late, brigands desperate for any scrap of iron they could find that wasn't crumbling away already. The likes of bandits wouldn't be able to stand up against his father, Kasmir knew. But somehow he didn't think this would end well as soon as he saw the lumbering ogre approaching out of the darkness, flanked by men both well outfitted and well armed. "Father?" He called out quietly to Gorion, who paid him no heed.

The old man stared down at the foes ahead of him, deciding on how to best handle this. The ogre would need to go first, it was the greatest danger here... Then the rest of the men after them. Bolts and arrows were dangerous to any mage, but with the power of Stoneskin encasing him, Gorion knew he would be able to dispatch them before they would wear down his formidable defenses. He was just about to make the first strike when he heard that voice.

"You're perceptive for an old man." An armored figure strode out of the darkness, a woman beside him. "You know why I'm here... Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt." He pulled out an enormous sword then, a two-hander as Gorion judged it, and yet the armored figure held it straight at him with only one hand.

_'Oghma's books, he's a strong one...'_ Gorion stared him down then, quickly going over his plan in his head and settling on disabling or dispatching the leader's henchmen and his ogre, in order to bring all of his power to bear on that one alone. He had been wrong. It wasn't the ogre that posed the most danger, it was this one.

"If you resist, it shall be a waste of your life." The armored figure warned him then.

Gorion gave him a derisive snort. "You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence. Step aside and you and your lackeys will be unhurt."

The armored figure lowered his sword then, "I'm sorry you feel that way, old man." Then he gave the signal for them to strike.

The ogre roared as it lumbered forward, while the armored figure's archers drew their arrows and unleashed them against the mage, only for them to shatter against Gorion's defenses. The ogre howled in pain as a lightning bolt tore through it, succumbing as a fireball flew over the fallen body, exploding against the woman, though her own magical defenses kept her safe. The archers weren't so lucky as they screamed in pain and tried to extinguish the flames that now covered them, only to be brought low by Gorion's magical attacks.

"Insolent old man!" The armored figure snarled and charged into combat, furious that Gorion was putting up a formidable stand against his lackeys.

An arrow of flame, sprung from the fingers of the woman that had accompanied the armored figure, flew past Gorion and the old man heard his ward scream in pain from behind. He looked back quickly, caught sight of Kasmir's face and shoulder on fire. "Kasmir!"

Kasmir screamed again as he felt the agonizing licks of the flames sear his flesh, and tore his cloak off his back, matting it against his face and body to put them out. Never had he felt such agony before, but it wouldn't stop him from using his magic. Quickly, Kasmir brought his magic bubbling to the top and pressed it against his shoulder, feeling divine energy flow over the burn wounds, mending them quickly. It wasn't enough to heal him completely, but it would staunch the agony for the time being... Just in time for one of the attackers to lunge at him.

All of a sudden, he felt an inexplicable fury rise up from within him, a murderous bloodlust that wanted the bastard in front of him dead. Chanting quickly, Kasmir brought his hand up between the two of them, pressed it against the bandit's face and watched as the man screamed in pain, blood bursting from his mouth and eyes as he slumped backward, dead from the wounds inflicted on him.

"Run, child!" Gorion shouted "Get out of here!"

"No, father! I won't!" Kasmir yelled back, refusing to abandon his father and leave him to fight off the ambush alone. These people were stronger than he expected and something within him told him that his foster father would die this night if Kasmir didn't help...

... Except, strong hands grabbed him from behind and pulled the youth away from the clearing. The man whispered harshly then, "Don't be a fool, boy! Listen to Gorion, we must flee if we are to survive!"

"But, he wo-" Kasmir began, desperate to fight back and get to Gorion.

The man hauled him back again, and growled in his face. "He's as good as dead! If you go back out there, he'll have died for nothing!"

Kasmir stared at him then, hating what he was hearing but deep down... He knew he was right. It was then that they heard Gorion's scream, and the laughter of the armored figure. Kasmir watched from where he was hidden, stared at the sight of the armored figure's terrible sword cleaving through his father with his magical defenses gone, with nothing left but an old man and the shattered remnants of some vague plan.

"Hurry!" The stranger pointed down to the southeast, whispering as he did so. "We need to leave before they find us here!"

The two of them ran then, making their way deeper into the trees, fleeing as far as they could. After a while, the stranger pulled Kasmir aside and pressed him against a tree. "We'll wait here," he explained, "They'll be expecting us to flee further than that, back to Candlekeep, maybe. Or Beregost."

Kasmir was panting hard now, legs aching and lungs aching after the desperate run through the forest. He was tired. So tired now. And it felt as if everything was hurting.

The stranger looked at him then. "Kas?"

He didn't hear the stranger speak. Instead, he slumped down against the tree and closed his eyes, desperate to block out a whirling world of pain he was living in right now. His last thought before the darkness overtook him was that his father was dead... and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

_"And now... Farewell to kindness, humanity, and gratitude. I have substituted myself for Providence in rewarding the good; may the God of vengeance now yield me His place to punish the wicked."_

* * *

_2rd of Mirtul, 1368_

Abdel sighed as he sat back against an especially thick and old tree, sharpening his bastard sword with a whetstone.

This was a fine start to the whole damn thing, wasn't it? Gorion... dead. Kasmir... Wounded and unconscious. An unknown enemy, searching and hunting them down. He had been traveling when he had gotten a message from Gorion, asking him to come and see him at Candlekeep.

From what Abdel could glean from his foster father's words, there was some hidden danger to Kasmir. They were as close as brothers so Abdel wasn't going to turn his back on Kasmir and abandon him to whoever wanted him dead.

The man looked over at Kasmir then, still lying unconscious on the bedroll Abdel had laid down for him, his shoulder and face bandaged over. Kasmir had healed his wounds somewhat already, but what remained was still bad enough... and the burn scars would more like than not remain for the rest of his life.

He heard a rustle then. Scrambling to his feet, Abdel had his bastard sword in his hand and ready to defend his younger brother, ready to cut down all that dared to attack them.

Only, it was Imoen that came out from behind another tree, waving at him. "Long time no see, ya big mook!"

Grinning, Abdel relaxed and slid his bastard sword into its scabbard. "Imoen! Didn't think I'd be seeing you again." He looked up and down at his childhood friend, "You sure grew up, didn't you?"

Imoen groaned, "Me? Look at ya! You're practically half-giant!"

The mercenary chuckled, "Don't blame me, Imoen. Whoever my parents were, clearly I came from good stock." He hugged his old friend then, happy to see her again after all these years. After they broke away, he glanced back at Kasmir, hoping to see his brother awake by now.

Kasmir wasn't.

But Imoen finally noticed him. "Oh no..." She ran over to him and settled onto her knees, careful to not touch Kasmir.

Abdel sighed. "It was an ambush. Father... He was trying to get Kasmir to safety but... they struck before he could get away, before I could meet him. They wanted Kasmir, for some reason." He looked at Kasmir then, his hand on Imoen's shoulder. "Whoever they were, they wanted Kasmir. Father refused, of course... But... Now he's gone."

The thief nodded reluctantly, "I know." She looked up at Abdel, "Sorry, I followed 'em, but I never get out of Candlekeep and those monks are such a bore. Never any decent coins in their pockets neither. I..." Imoen looked back at Kasmir, at her friend's bandaged face where she could see burn scars peeking out from under the fabric. "I saw Gorion, and I am SO sorry!"

She was quiet for a while. They both were. "Kinda figured something bad might happen to you out there," Imoen quietly added then.

Abdel frowned, "How could you have known? Gorion did not even tell me..."

Imoen scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "I... accidentally... read a letter on his desk the other day. Can't remember exactly what it said, but he might still have..." She looked at Kasmir, sorrow clear on her face. "It might still be on his... his body." The thief stood up then, clapped her hands together. "Anyway! I'm not gonna let you wander out here all alone! Never let a friend down, no, sir! Stick with you until you say otherwise, I will!"

The mercenary smiled then, "We could definitely use another pair of hands, Im." He considered what his friend had just said, though. "Stay here and keep an eye on Kas, will you? I'm... I'm going to go back, see if I can find that letter you mentioned."

Imoen nodded, and Abdel strapped his bastard sword to his belt then before grabbing his backpack. "I'll be back."

The big man set out then, making his way back toward the clearing where his foster father had fallen. It took quite some time, given how much running he and Kasmir had done after Gorion's demise, but eventually he got there.

The ancient circles of stone that dominated the clearing were still there, though the aftermath of the battle had scarred the clearing. Corpses, colder than the grave now, were strewn all over the stone circles. Abdel approached the only body that mattered. Sighing, he dropped to a knee and went through Gorion's personal effects. Just a bit of gold, a dagger that did its master no good, and... the letter Imoen mentioned.

Reading through it, Abdel shook his head as he realized there weren't any clues to be found, nothing more beyond what he already knew. He didn't know who this E was, but... If Gorion had left a day earlier, then he'd still be alive. He didn't understand then, what had made the old man stay longer than he had been counseled to. Perhaps there had been something within the Library of Candlekeep that Gorion wanted to consult... His foster father was forever consulting the tomes and scrolls, in all matters of importance. Such caution, while normally life-saving, had seemingly led to his death. Abdel chuckled ruefully as he read on. A fighting chance? Gorion hadn't even had that in the end.

In the end, there was only one thing they could do. Gorion had been advised to meet with his friends, Khalid and Jaheira, at the Friendly Arm Inn. Gorion was dead now but Kasmir was still alive.

He stood up then, determined to keep his brother alive no matter the cost. Abdel went through the rest of the corpses then, hoping to find further clues but there were none. He came away with some more currency, no doubt blood money paid to murder his father but... They'd need every bit of gold they could get their hands on. One of the corpses, though, the one that looked as if he had his head shattered with magic... The leather armor was quite new. A recent purchase, likely. With a bit of adjusting, it'd fit Imoen snugly.

By the time Abdel returned, the sun was beginning to set.

Kasmir was still unconscious, he noted, while Imoen was sitting beside him. "Hey, Im. Here you go." He tossed the leather armor over at his old friend, who caught it quite easily and looked at it.

"Oooh!"

Already, she was excited and eager to get it strapped onto herself, and Abdel chuckled. He dropped his backpack by the rest of his things and held up the letter. "Found it, by the way."

"Now what?" Imoen asked, fumbling about as she adjusted the leather armor around her chest, curious as to what their next move would be. It honestly didn't matter because this was quite literally the adventure of a lifetime and she was more than excited to get started, despite the tragedy that had just befallen them.

Abdel looked down at the letter again. "We'll go to the Friendly Arm Inn, like Gorion wanted. He had friends waiting for us there... At the very least, they should know about what happened."

The thief nodded in agreement. There'd be plenty of people at the Friendly Arm Inn. Which meant there'd be plenty of things to take. Plenty of pockets to pick. "What about Kas, though? He's still out."

"I can walk," Kasmir groaned as he tried to sit up.

Abdel and Imoen rushed to his side then, the big man helping his brother as Imoen hugged her childhood friend, ecstatic to see that he was finally awake. The sorcerer groaned in pain, feeling his body in agony. He reached up with one hand, felt the bandages on his face, but as soon as he saw Abdel, he pushed the pain aside. "Abdel...?"

"It's me," Abdel smiled, genuinely happy to see his brother conscious now. "I'm here."

"But... how? You left years ago..." Kasmir was confused. Gorion was gone now, gone forever. In his stead, though, his foster brother had come back into his life. It all just felt so unreal. "How did you find us?"

"Fair enough. He wrote to me, told me where to meet you two..."

Kasmir looked at him then, "He wrote to you?" Somehow, he felt taken back. Gorion trusted Abdel enough to share some of his plans with the mercenary, but not to him?

Abdel sighed, seeing the look on Kasmir's face. "He loved you, Kas. Trust in that, if nothing else. He wrote to me, asking if I could return and join him and you. Said Candlekeep wouldn't be safe for much longer and that he was hoping to find allies that would help keep you safe."

Kasmir looked at Abdel and he nodded, taking comfort in what the big man had said. "So you came back for me..."

"I did." The mercenary smiled, though he looked around then, as if checking to see if anyone was spying on them. "I've been out, for the most part... It looks like whoever came for you last night has left since then, so... We should get moving."

The sorcerer nodded, exhaling softly as he struggled to get to his feet. So much had happened. His home was forever closed to him now, and even if her gates had opened up for him, there was no sanctuary to be had in Candlekeep. His father, the man who had raised him and been there for him all his life was dead, slain by some unknown attacker. And the attacker, a fearsome monster in frightening armor, wanted not Gorion but Kasmir. The armored figure had wanted him.

He needed to find out what was going on, why his father had died and why the man wanted him. Hopefully these friends of his father's would have clues of their own, something to lead him... Well, to lead him somewhere.

He wasn't sure what to do now.

Kasmir, Imoen, and Abdel all quickly got ready to move out and they followed as Abdel led the way back to the clearing where the powerful mage had fallen. Kasmir was feeling a great many things but more than anything, he wanted to find out what was happening... And who to exact vengeance from.

It didn't take long until they ran into other people, though Kasmir didn't think they'd be bandits, considering there were only two of them. He stopped about ten paces away, taking notice of the halfing and the human. "Morning, goodsirs."

One of them answered then, "Hold, Montaron, this young wayfarer is in need."

The halfing grinned at the three of them, scratching his scruffy cheek. "Hello there, kid. Rather strange place to be wandering, ain't it?"He looked up at his companion then, before turning back to the three of them. "My companion has something to say to ya."

The human was, by far, stranger than the halfling. With pale white skin and bright orange hair as well as tattoos on his face, he was dressed flamboyantly, wearing robes that were all sorts of clashing colors, green and white and yellow, though Kasmir took notice of the curved dagger that hung at his belt. The human grinned at him, a visage that looked almost skeletal with those sunken eyes and the sinister smile. "Someone has set about thee, stranger, and you have barely escaped with your life."

Kasmir wasn't too surprised to hear it, he knew he must have looked pretty bad at this point, as dirty and bedraggled as he was, along with the burn wounds he had sustained.

"Aye, Xzar," the halfing agreed, "looks to have been roughed up quite well."

And the robed man came several paces closer, "Indeed, I can offer you healing potions, if you wish, as a token of goodwill."

Kasmir stared at the one the halfling had called Xzar, unsure whenever to trust him. There was something about the man that felt off. He looked back at Abdel and Imoen then, who shrugged, apparently leaving it up to him. Kasmir returned his gaze to Xzar, who procured several potions from his own satchel. "I'd be grateful for the assistance, then."

Xzar gave him the potions then. "Nothing to fear from these simple potions, and I'll not even hold you in debt, though your conscience knows otherwise."

"Just like all good people," muttered the halfling, though no one paid him any heed

The robed figure tapped his chin then. "Perhaps as payment, you would go with us to Nashkel. It is a troubled area and we mean to investigate some disturbing rumors surrounding the local mines. Some acquaintances are very concerned about the iron shortage." Xzar smiled then, almost manically so. "Specifically, where to lay blame in the matter. You would be useful, though I'll not hold you to it." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "We are to meet the mayor of the town, a man named Berrun Ghastkill, I believe."

Kasmir quaffed one of the potions then, feeling its restorative magic flowing through him, healing some of the wounds he had incurred. He sighed and gave the matter some thought. He didn't think it wise to trust either one of these two, but if the armored figure returned, he doubted the three of them would be able to survive, at least not without assistance.

"I would join you, but I must meet someone first." Kasmir explained, as an apology, though he continued on. "Perhaps you will go with me?"

Xzar and Montaron spoke with each other then, while the three of them waited. The man looked back at Kasmir and gave him a friendly smile. "We've precious little time, but it's best to travel accompanied. These roads are less safer by the day, after all."

The halfing growled, "Aye, we'll go wit' ye. Ye owe us fer our time though."

Kasmir, Abdel, and Imoen resumed their journey with Montaron and Xzar in tow. The five made good progress until they had reached the heart of the Coast Way, though it was clear that Kasmir would need to stop for a while, to regain some of his strength. He sat against the great stone monument that lent travellers directions across the Coast Way, with Imoen staying with him while Abdel accompanied Xzar and Montaron into the wilderness, hoping to find some stream to refill their waterskins, though the mercenary didn't trust them all that much and wasn't willing to let them out of his sight just yet.

Thus it was only Kasmir and Imoen when a traveler came their way, a strange old man by the looks of him. The sorcerer remained where he was, leaning against the pedestal " Ho there, wanderer." He stopped before Kasmir, leaned on his staff and held up a hand in greeting. "Stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man."

Kasmir, wary after all that happened, nodded. "What can I do for you?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **_Here's the third chapter and the official beginning to our story! So I've fleshed out a bit more of Kasmir's powers, but it's not quite related to his class just yet. Instead, if you've got any experience with playing Dungeons and Dragons, here's a little hint... It's a part of his background. :-) _

_That said, I also wanted to incorporate the novels, as atrocious as they were, into the story as well so Abdel Adrian's there as well. Is he a Bhaalspawn as well? Or an entirely innocent person who got wrapped up in the Bhaalspawn crisis? Well, we'll just have to find out soon. But if you enjoyed this small twist, I think you'll enjoy a few more twists that are coming up soon where Abdel is concerned._

_Also, just a fun thing to think about, but I thought it was interesting that there's four stone circles in the first map of the game after you leave Candlekeep, and at this point in the story, there's been four people on that very same map who have all been canonically Bhaalspawns. :-P Just something to consider, maybe?_

_**Nimoth of Thay**_ _\- Never hurts to reread things, after all, you never know when new details jump out at you, as was apparently the case for you! I'm glad that's how you saw it, because that was exactly what I wanted to convey. And foreshadowing is always fun, no? Hope you enjoy the third chapter of the Bhaalspawn saga! _


	4. Of Men and Gods

**Disclaimer: **This story is written using the setting and the characters of the Forgotten Realms, part of Dungeons & Dragons and wholly owned by Wizards of the Coast. Original characters, fictional locations, and such are all entirely made up and any resemblance to other people/places is purely coincidental. If you find a reason to sue me, proceed. Just be warned, I'm virtually penniless and have a cute little puppy that relies on me or food and a warm place to sleep. A puppy, people. Don't be cruel.

**Thicker Than Blood**

**A Baldur's Gate Story**

**\- Of Men and Gods - **

* * *

"_What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from."_

* * *

_2nd of Mirtul, 1368_

"It's been nigh unto a tenday since I've seen a soul walking this road, and I've been without decent conversation since." The old man smiled, leaning on his staff with both of his hands. "Traveling nowadays appears to be the domain of either the desperate or the deranged. If thou wouldst pardon my intrusion, may I inquire which pertains to thee?"

Kasmir stared at him for a moment, that was what he wanted? To make small talk?

Imoen, on the other hand, chuckled. "Heh, I... or do I need ta say "Ti"? I mean, if "you" is "thou"... or was it "thee"? Uhm..." She stopped for a moment, pondering this. "In any case, I'm not desperate and not deranged. I'm excited! I am going to be a famous adventurer, like Elminster!"

The old man smiled then, "Thou art a spirited girl, Imoen. Now what of thy companion?"

"Wait, wait! How d'ya know my name?" Imoen gave the old man a questioning look then, not too sure about all of this now. Having someone know who you are before you've even met them is seldom a good thing, after all.

"One can acquire such knowledge in more ways than one, child. But let the quiet one speak."

Kasmir raised an eyebrow, wondering if the man was deranged or just nearly there himself. In any case, the young sorcerer shrugged, somewhat amused at the absurdity of the situation. "I've seen both the desperate and the deranged," he began, thinking of Gorion, poor dead Gorion, as well as the strange pair of Montaron and Xvar. "But in any case, I wouldn't say either one pertains to me, by my standards, but as to your own standards... I cannot say."

The old man nodded, seeming as if he was absorbing what Kasmir had to say. "Point well taken, and thou hast answered my query most adequately. I shall think of thee as determined instead."

In a strange way, Kasmir couldn't help but feel comforted. Somehow, there was something about this old man that was reminiscent of Gorion, and it wasn't just that they were both old men.

The old man took out a pipe, though he didn't bother to light it just yet. "I shall trouble thee no more, as thou art more than capable of the task at hand." Instead, he gestured along a path, a cobbled road that gently curved to the north. "North is the Friendly Arm Inn, where I am certain thou shalt find trustworthy friends awaiting."

Kasmir gave the old man a measured stare, wondering how he could possibly know that. He had the feeling that there was certainly more to the stranger than he suspected.

The stranger, though, must have picked up on Kasmir's suspicion for he clapped his hands then and readied his staff for yet more wandering. "I have said too much and taken too much time from thee." With that, he went on his merry way, moving past Kasmir and taking his leave. "Fare thee well."

He watched the old man leave, taking notice of a gentle wisp of smoke coming from the stranger. Sighing, the young sorcerer relaxed then, rummaged through his backpack and pulled out some of the bread Winthrop had packed for him. He chewed on it for a while, thinking of everything that had happened since yesterday. So much had happened since he had woken up in his bed at Candlekeep yesterday...

Leaving Candlekeep should have been the most exciting thing to happen, along with seeing Abdel Adrian again after nearly ten years. Instead, those had ended up becoming mere footnotes... Gorion's death. The mysterious armored figure. Taking someone's life...

Kasmir took another bite of the bread as he thought back to the clearng, to the man who had attacked him, who he had killed with his magic... He was well accustomed to killing rats for Reevor but this had felt so much different than just snuffing out vermin. He had felt sick, nauseous to the point of throwing up, and at the same time...

The sorcerer shook his head, not liking where his thoughts were going. He found it strange that it hadn't affected him as much as he expected it to.

"So, Kasmir, how ya doing?" Imoen spoke up at last, after watching her childhood friend being silent for a while, doing naught but eat some of his bread and thinking. No doubt dwelling on all that had happened.

"I'm fine, Imoen. Thanks for asking." Kasmir answered, looking at her. "You have something on your mind?"

Imoen shook her head. "Not really. Was wonderin' how you were feeling. Seeing if you were okay and all. You don't talk much lately... All quiet and stuff."

Kasmir sighed, wondering what to say to that. "Gorion is dead, mysterious assassins are after me, and I can't even begin to imagine how to survive another day." He looked down at his bread, taking another bite and chewing slowly for a time. "It all happened so suddenly."

"I'd hate to see this eat away at ya," Imoen started, "We'll get him, ya know. That guy, whoever he was, who killed your dad. We'll find out who he is, and pay him back good! And don't even think of ditching me, either! I know what I'm doing, and I'm in this as much as you and Abdel. I liked Gorion, and you're my best friend. I'm your best friend too, whether you know it or not. You can count on me, and don't you forget it!"

Kasmir smiled, feeling better now that Imoen had her say. "What brings this on, Imoen? I don't think I've ever seen you act this way!"

The thief could only shrug, her face full of concern. "I'm just mad, that's all... Mad, sad, and a little worried, I guess. I'll get over it." She smiled afterwards. "Heh. I was trying to make you feel better, and now I'm all worked up. Come on, let's go fin-"

A rustle to the side alerted Kasmir and Imoen to Abdel returning, and he noticed the mercenary had brought down two rabbits, no doubt with his longbow. Though, he didn't see the halfing or the strange man anywhere. "Montaron and Xzar?"

Abdel snorted then. "Xzar's up in a tree, screeching his head off. We ran into a pack of gibberlings. Cut most of them down, the halfling and me. One of them leapt at Xzar. His head, actually... and he squealed like a girl and scrambled up a tree. Last I saw, Montaron's threatening to climb up himself and cut him up." He placed his longbow against his own pack and pulled out a knife, ready to get to work on the rabbits. "Xzar, on the other hand, threatened to suck the flesh off his fingers and toes if Montaron tried it."

Kasmir stared at him, unsure whenever Abdel was just jesting with him or not. He decided to just finish the rest of his bread instead. "You've killed before, right?"

The mercenary looked up at him. He hadn't expected that question at all, but he supposed after seeing your father die in front of you... Abdel returned his attention back to the rabbits. "Yeah, I've killed plenty... Why?"

Kasmir watched as Abdel worked on skinning and gutting the rabbits and cleaning them up to be cooked. "I... I killed one of those men, the night Gorion died. With my magic..."

His oldest friend looked up at him. "I know. Uh, I saw.. Your first time, it can be a shock... But you'll get used to it. That's all any of us can really do." He placed the rabbits aside and started setting up a campfire. The Friendly Arm might be close by but they'd need a bit of strength before pressing on.

Kasmir nodded, digesting what Abdel told him. Though, he couldn't help but feel as if there was something wrong with him. He hadn't felt wrong killing one of the men that had come with the armored figure, bursting his head with his magic. It didn't feel wrong.

It felt natural.

Before long, Imoen returned from her exploration, crowing about how she had found a ring in a rock, one that looked to be enchanted. Montaron soon joined them, though Xzar eventually appeared as well, though he spoke in nothing but gibberish for the rest of the day. They sat in silence, watching as the rabbits roasted on skewers over the open fire Abdel had built and breathed in the aroma of cooked meat.

Once the group had finished up their meal of cooked rabbit along with cheese and berries as well as shared a bottle of wine Imoen had filched from the Candlekeep Inn before departing, they made their way along the road north. It took them six hours before they reached the Friendly Arm Inn, just as night fell.

Abdel approached the gatehouse with his group in tow, greeting the guards that came out to meet them. "Well met."

"Well met, goodsir," one of the guard answered, looking at each of the mercenary's companions. "Welcome to the Friendly Arm. I trust you know the rules of conduct within?"

The mercenary nodded, though Kasmir spoke up instead, curious as to what those rules were. "Truthfully, I've never been here before. Would you enlighten me as to the rules?"

The guard nodded his head, though it was clear that he was curious as to the young man, given that Kasmir still had half his face bandaged up. "Perhaps 'rules' is a touch too formal. It is unwritten, but accepted, that while herein you will act within the utmost of civility to all other guests." He stood aside then, gesturing for them to pass, though his gaze did not leave the suspicious pair of Montaron and Xzar. "This is neutral ground, and all grievances are left at the gates. If the grievances come in, then you will go out."

"Understood," Kasmir responded, thinking these rules to be quite simple. Simplicity was best, Gorion had always told him, and he could appreciate that simplicity.

"Enjoy your say," the other guard spoke up as he too stood aside, allowing the five of them to make their way inside. As it had been a long day for most of them, the group settled on getting rooms for the night and heading off to sleep early, while Montaron and Xzar, still spouting gibberish, elected to stay up a bit longer and see if they could find out any additional news regarding the iron shortage.

Kasmir, sharing a room with Abdel while Imoen had taken one for herself, stared at his reflection in the mirror. He looked battered and bruised, and yet he felt so much different on the inside, so much emptier. He felt bereft of a father, bereft of a home, and bereft of his innocence.

So much had happened and somehow he felt as if life wasn't finished with him just yet.

He felt as if that there were so many more tragedies and misfortunes ahead of him, lurking in the darkness and waiting for him to take the wrong step. Sighing, Kasmir climbed into the bed he had paid for and felt himself slowly drift off to sleep.

* * *

_The mist parted to reveal a stone bridge, one that spanned from darkness to darkness, reaching across the endless horizons of eternity._

_Kasmir stood up then, his fingers white against the cobblestones of the bridge. In front of him, he could see two figures in the distances, fleeing him. Confusion warring with curiosity within him, Kasmir began walking, step after step after endless step._

_Slowly, he closed in on the two. Steadily, he approached nearer and nearer to the two. Soon, he could see that there was a man and a woman. The man, he quickly realized, wore heavy armor that had been painted black and grey, and in his hand was a bastard sword. His hair was a mess, though held back by a metal headband he wore around his forehead. The woman with him, on the other hand, a beauty to behold. Dressed in naught but a long flowing dress and armed with only a staff, she kept pace beside her companion._

_He could see that they were trying to hurry, visibly worried about something. They kept looking back then, at the sound of his footsteps and hurried up every time they saw him._

_It was only then that Kasmir realized that he wasn't hearing his own footsteps. He stopped then, watched as they disappeared into the mist. The footsteps kept approaching... Closer and closer... Louder and louder... Louder!_

_He turned from one horizon to the other horizon, and saw him then. A hulking monster of a man, marching unceasingly toward him. This one was different from the other two Kasmir had just seen, far more different and far more dangerous._

_The man was missing an arm, Kasmir realized. He looked closer then, noticing that it had been damn near shorn off, with shattered bone jutting out of a bloody stump._

_Kasmir backed away slowly, instinctively fearing this thing that was approaching him. The closer the man got, the more Kasmir realized just how big he really was, with a great mane of hair and a thick bushy beard... And his eyes were somehow the color of blood. Kasmir couldn't think of him as a man anymore, not when he looked so much more like a monster now. He looked back then, wondering if he should run as well, and returned his attention to the approaching figure..._

_Only to find him standing in front of him. Wordlessly, the monster grabbed his throat and lifted him up into the air, and Kasmir struggled to escape his deadly grip. He beat against the monster, kicked at him, and clawed at the monster's thick arm._

_And still, he could only feel his life leaving him, squeezed away bit by bit by the choking grip of the bloody eyed monster._

_Then a gleaming red blade appeared, skewered through the monster's chest, a look of surprise on the monster's face. The hand released him then and Kasmir fell from there, slammed against the cobblestones that covered the bridge. They gave away, crumbling under him as Kasmir fell deeper into the void, into the inescapable darkness beneath, and he looked up at the hole he had fallen through..._

_There was a shining light then, shining brighter and brighter like a star fallen to earth... And it exploded, a bright glare flooding everything, blinding everything and everyone, blinding him!_

* * *

_3rd of Mirtul, 1368_

Kasmir woke up with a gasp in his bed. He felt cold and clammy then, soaked in his own sweat. Panting softly, the sorcerer looked around the darkened room. He could just make out the outline of the mercenary in his own bed, snoring softly.

Needing fresh air, Kasmir hurried out of his bed and changed into fresh clothes and grabbed the fine dagger he had been given by Fuller.

Leaving his room, Kasmir looked around. It looked as if everyone else was sleeping as well, with only the braziers burning still to provide some illumination in case someone woke up and felt like going for a walk.

Such as himself, he supposed.

Kasmir made his way down into the lower levels, until he reached the great hall that had been altered to serve as a gathering place for the guests of the Friendly Arm Inn, with a bar in the back and a kitchen to the side. Just as he stepped off the stairs, Kasmir ran into Imoen who jumped onto his back.

"Kas!" The thief whispered as she hugged him from behind. "Thought you went to sleep?"

The sorcerer gave her a smile once she had gotten off him. "I did. I just... had a bad dream, so I decided to go get some fresh air." Kasmir explained, running his hand through black hair that was still somewhat damp. "What have you been doing? I thought you were asleep too?"

Imoen grinned, shrugging. "Oh, you know, I was just thinking... Here we are, traveling the good road. Some grand 'adventure' we're having, huh? Not exactly what we used to daydream about, but still, kinda exciting, I guess. I'd rather be out here, going places and doing things, than be stuck in Candlekeep, cleaning out stables and turning down beds."

Kasmir smiled, he couldn't fault her that. "It has been interesting, to say the least. Not quite what I had in mind either, but it's not like I have a choice."

"That's 'we' remember? And yeah, 'spose we don't have much choice at that. Stil, we can do a lot of good, I think." Imoen nodded, grinning still. "Wonder if they'll make a tale of our adventures? Just think, one day folks will be in the common room of some inn, maybe even the Candekeep Inn, and ask a bard to tell 'em a tale of Imoen the Quick and her trusty side-kick, Kasmir!"

Kasmir raised an eyebrow at that. "Side-kick...!?"

"Oh, okay." Imoen laughed, waving it aside. "We'll be partners, I 'spose. What ya think? Imoen the Quick sounds good to you? Quick with the blade and wit! All the best heroes and heroines have handles. Hmmm, maybe Imoen the Terrible? Nah, too dark. Imoen the Bold? Imoen the Sly? Imoen the Magnificent? Hey, that sounds pretty good!"

"Uh huh." Kasmir chuckled, crossing his arms though his arm flinched in pain. "Imoen, the Pinnacle of Annoyance, the Epitome of Vexation, and the Champion of Besetment!"

Pouting, Imoen grunted. "Well! You're being rude today! Guess I'll just keep quiet and wait for ya to come beggin' for something from little old Imoen."

The sorcerer laughed, "You should get some sleep, Imoen." He watched as his childhood friend grinned yet again and waved before taking off upstairs for her own room. Kasmir looked around the room then, catching sight of Xzar and Montaron nearby, seated at one of the corner tables.

"Oh, come on, Montaron," Xzar groaned, "lighten up. Must you be so moody all the time?"

Kasmir didn't bother listening in, neither interested nor curious as to the gruff halfing's response, though he couldn't help but note that Xzar was no longer speaking in gibberish. Whenever that was an improvement or not, he couldn't say.

Instead, Kasmir pressed on, looking around the room. He didn't see Abdel nor anyone else that might be friends of Gorion, but then again, how would he know? Sighing, the sorcerer decided to get some fresh air and went outside instead.

Or rather, he would have if a shiver hadn't just ran up his back as he passed the stairs that led downward, into the Friendly Arm's cellars. The stairway looked especially ominous to him, a single brazier barely illuminating the way down, while much of it was cloaked in shadows. For just a moment, he remembered the dream.

Gulping, Kasmir glanced around behind him, to see if anyone was looking at him. He didn't catch any attention coming his way, save from a dour looking half-orc in the opposite corner, who looked to be more preoccupied with his drink than with the sorcerer.

"Looks like you had a rough journey." Kasmir turned to the side to see who was speaking, and realized that it was just one of the serving girls he had seen earlier with Bentley Mirrorshade. The wench, as he couldn't recall hearing her name before, was carrying several empty tankards.

The sorcerer smiled ruefully, for rough didn't even begin to do it justice. "Yes, the roads were rough. Who are you, anyway?"

"My name's Nessie," she smiled back, mistaking Kasmir's dark humor for something else. "The Mirrorshades hired me to work at the inn almost five years ago and now I wouldn't leave it for the life of me." She looked around the keep's common room fondly. "It's wonderful here, with new face passing through every day."

"The Mirrorshades?" Kasmir had only met Bentley and he had seemed like a kindly man, not entirely unlike Winthrop though at least half his size and a third his weight.

"Oh, Bentley and Gellana," explained Nessie. "They run the place. Bentley's behind the bar, and you can usually find Gellana in the temple." She pointed toward the keep's entrance, and Kasmir supposed she was talking about the smaller building he had seen beside the keep. "I'm usually with Bentley, waiting tables and making sure everything stays nice and clean."

Kasmir looked back at her. "This place is practically a fortress... Why all the security?"

The serving girl smiled, shrugging though she couldn't fault him for wondering. "Bentley wanted the inn to be a safe haven for all sorts of travelers. Anyone can stay but we don't tolerate any troublemaking within these walls."

"He didn't build this place, did he?" The sorcerer asked, curious about the contrast between the buildings that surrounded the keep and the keep itself. The houses and stables themselves looked fairly recent, while on the other hand, the keep itself... "It looks like it's been here forever."

"Oh no," Nessie laughed, "Bentley and Gellana didn't build the inn! They found it..." She smiled at Kasmir then. "They were part of an adventuring party, not unlike your own. In the first few years following the Time of Troubles, when all the gods were walking the surface of our world, the inn was actually the hold of a powerful, undead priest of Bhaal, god of murder."

Kasmir shivered then, and he was sure it wasn't because of the cold. The death of the Lord of Murder had not entirely been a blessing, the sorcerer knew from his studies. Cyric, mad Cyric, had swooped down and stolen many of his followers after stealing Bhaal's portfolio... while there were still Bhaalites that sought to revive their fallen god. Furthermore, he recalled the prophecy regarding the children of Bhaal by the wise Alaundo. How many times had he heard the Voices and their Endless Chant growing up at Candlekeep?

The Lord of Murder shall perish, but in his doom he will spawn a score of mortal progeny. Chaos will be sewn from their passage.

"With the evil cleric weakened by the death of his god," Nessie went on, oblivious to the fact that what she had said agitated the sorcerer, "Bentley and Gellana were able to destroy him once and for all, thus laying claim to his troubled fortress."

Kasmir sighed. "There's more to this place than I would have guessed."

The serving girl smiled, though she was ready to head inside and get to sleep herself. "The present is always a thin veneer over the past. Look closely at any building in the Sword Coast region and you can be sure that its stones are held in place by history's mortar." She gave Kasmir one last look, "Just something I heard Bentley say once. Farewell, goodsir."

"To you as well," Kasmir smiled, waving the serving girl as she departed. _'History's mortar, eh?'_ History often had a habit of being written by the victors, Kasmir knew. And victors often had a habit of building the foundations of their victories upon corpses. He wondered then, just how many corpses could be found in the mortar of the Sword Coast. Kasmir ran his hand through his hair, sighing as he wondered what to do now. Finding the man responsible for his father's murder, certainly. But what then? Was he going to kill yet another man?

Even before that, how many lives would he have to take before he reached the armored figure? And how many more lives would he have to take in order to avenge Gorion? A score of lives? A hundred? Thousands?

Just what exactly would the price of vengeance be? More importantly,how much was he willing to pay? Kasmir wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Sighing again, the sorcerer brushed some of his dark hair out of the way, before glancing back down the cellar steps. There was something down there, he could tell. Deciding that there could hardly be anything worse than seeing one's father murdered in front of them by some armored demon of a man, Kasmir stepped down the stairs, curiosity leading him on forward, into the darkness.

* * *

**Author's Note: **_And that's the fourth chapter. As always, many thanks for taking the time to read! The next chapter or two should prove to be quite interesting, and it'll be the first major divergence for our Bhaalspawn Saga, one in which our main character takes the first step toward embracing his destiny, whenever he likes it or not. _

_**Nimloth of Thay**_ _\- I like responding to reviews, plus it's only fair, after all you took the time to write one. :P That said, I can't blame you for liking Sarevok, he's certainly got quite the charisma to him, and interactions with him have always been very interesting. I suppose it's the same with Edwin, truth be told. XD I also thought it'd be a fun little twist to incorporate Abdel Adrian into the story, and in the next couple chapters, you're gonna see just what sort of impact he'll have on the storyline. Hope you enjoyed the fourth chapter! _


	5. Author's Note

p style="text-align: center;"span style="text-decoration: underline;"strongAuthor's Note/strong/span/p  
p style="text-align: center;"Given the Coronavirus pandemic, I've got quite the free time now. For the last week and half, I've been going through the chapters I've written so far, and figuring out a basic outline for where to take the story and how to incorporate some of things I want to incorporate. As a result, I've spent the last few days rewriting most of the chapters to give it a better flow (in my opinion anyway) and to untangle the story a bit. Truthfully, I was pretty unsatisfied with how Chapter 4 came out, especially toward the ending, so I wanted to fix that and that meant going back a couple of chapters./p  
p style="text-align: center;"Therefore, if you're reading this, I highly recommend re-reading the following chapters:/p  
p style="text-align: center;"2 - Halcyon Days/p  
p style="text-align: center;"3 - A Killing Field/p  
p style="text-align: center;"4 - Of Men and Gods/p  
p style="text-align: center;"This Author's Note will be up for the next few days, while I work on finishing and fleshing out the fifth chapter to strongTHICKER THAN BLOOD/strong. In that chapter, a few things will come to light, especially Kasmir's class. I'm quite enjoying writing it and I hope you'll all come to enjoy reading it as well! That said, I want to thank you all, my dear readers, for taking the time to read my story so far!/p  
p style="text-align: center;"To my Fallout readers, if you're reading this as well, rest assured! Updates to both my ongoing stories are coming as well! I've elected to write up a pair of one-shots, one for strongBRAVE NEW WORLD/strong, the other for strongTHIN RED LINE/strong, in order to get back into the mindset for continuing those stories. Thank you for your patience!/p  
p style="text-align: center;"On to the reviews!/p  
p style="text-align: left;"strongNimloth of Thay, /strongglad you enjoyed the chapter! You'll probably like the updated version as well, or at least I hope so. No doubt about Xzar, though. Man's a riot, either that or he's liable to have people rioting. Things certainly won't get any easier for Kasmir, sadly... As for the nightmare, I like to think of it as a glance into both the past and a warning of the future. :) As for the "all those of evil intent" line, I just like to think it's Tazok who's sending out the bounty notices on Sarevok's order. XD And finally, I was just thinking of those exact 'heroes' when it came to writing that particular scene, though admittedly, it was also influenced by Napoleon Bonaparte and his quote "History is a set of lies agreed upon." That said, it raises the question... Is truth preferable to lies, even if the truth itself is unbearable and causes nothing but pain? /p  
p style="text-align: left;"strongTripleF/strongstrong, /strongthank you for reading! I've actually updated the chapters so this time around Kasmir managed to slink past all the bounty hunters (Mostly because I wanted to set up an entertaining scene in the Shadows of Amn portion of my story where Kasmir runs into Carbos and Shank, and them being dead would have just deprived me of that. Never did understand why they were in that game too but...) On the subject of Abdel, I'm looking forward to it as well, I haven't actually decided whenever he's a Bhaalspawn or not, I'm leaving that to the roll of the dice! :D As for Kasmir and him throwing away the bounty notice, definitely naivety but as you'll see, the scene with Tarnesh has been pushed to either Chapter 5 or Chapter 6. I was just too unhappy with the way that scene unfolded so I wanted to redo it for a stronger scene instead. Again, thanks for reading! br /br /The same goes to all of you readers, I appreciate you all sticking with me this far and I shall strive to ensure that this story remain as entertaining to read as ever! Stay safe, everyone!/p 


End file.
